


Silent Talks

by closedice (inspectorwired)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bit of kissing, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frisk's POV, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Introspection, Other, POV Second Person, Selectively Mute Frisk, talking is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:32:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5481869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inspectorwired/pseuds/closedice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You two are similar like this; he talks about everything but, making heavy stuff disappear in the jokes and tricks and laughter, and you stay quiet all the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Frisk

There's always frost on his and Papyrus's roof, no matter the time of year, or the level of temperature outside. When you sit down on his roof and talk in silence, wrapped in blankets, your small hands inside his big, blue hoodie, you never question the cold.  
  
You like sitting out here with him, late at evening and night; you like him wrapping his arm around you, despite the bones poking into skin at weird angles, the smell of ketchup and grease and strangeness of the lack of body heat, while seeing white breath form before your eyes.  
  
It was a warm feeling, just sitting next to him; falling asleep beside him at times. He falls asleep in the middle of conversation all the time, when he gets a little too comfortable, not even laying down but rather just resting his side on yours, starting to snore quietly.  
  
Sometimes you draw things on his skull when he does this, just to mess with him.

Sometimes you wake up with lots of funny faces drawn on your cheeks with a sharpie, and Sans is nowhere to be found.  
You have no idea how he does it.  
  
You like the fact that silence makes up the most of your important talks; one of the best things with Sans is that he never forces you to do anything. You can sit beside him and get rid of that feeling in your stomach that sometimes just makes it clench up, makes you not want to talk anymore; listening to his annoying jokes and stories, about his brother, about science, or his audience at Mettaton's hotel, anything at all.  
  
He doesn't mind you being quiet during these moments.  
  
You two are similar like this; he talks about everything but, making heavy stuff disappear in the jokes and tricks and laughter, and you stay quiet all the time.  
  
You don't even feel any pressure to hit on him, wiggle your hips or start any of the silly flirting you usually do with your other friends, even though it still makes you wonder. You want to get close.

And even though he seems like the most approachable person in the world, every time you do... he doesn't even push away, he just slips from your reach.  
  
You want to get close, but you're also crazy scared; you can't quite explain why, other than obvious reasons, because you know he won't ever hurt you, even if he wants to. Maybe not knowing if he does is what makes you scared.  
  
buddy. pal.  
friend.  
  
But he's friends with everyone, isn't he?  
  
  
You wave your legs over the roof and hold the hot cocoa in your hands. Dressed as ridiculous as you always are, today in a worn tutu, Blooky's band T-shirt and bright yellow rain boots, with a blanket over your knees, you don't feel cold.

As finishes the story about his pet rock that's gotten the annoying habit of sleeping in Papyrus's shoes, he turns over to look at you.

"anyway, kid. been meaning to ask you. what do you think makes a good person? the thing that makes someone good."  
  
You shrug. "Good things."  
You aren't in the mood for much talking tonight.  
  
"guess you're right, buddy. but a guy has to wonder.. if there's no way to prove something bad happened. if no one's there to see it. did the person who did it a bad one, huh?"  
  
You're not sure you want to nod.  
  
You didn't do anything.  
You didn't really kill them, not in this reality.  
  
But he remembers.  
  
But everyone else has pieces of emotions stuck to the memories of things that didn't happen, too; they can sense that they know you.  
Maybe that's the reason they all came to love you so much.  
  
And you were just a child, playing with everything like children do.  
  
Laughing at bits of happiness scattered about, and wondering if anything is exactly wrong, never seemed to end with any sort of a conclusion for you, spinning around in circles, further and further, the more you realized you don't want to end it yet. You didn't want to say goodbye, didn't want to be alone.  
  
It got you thinking... if you did something that nobody can keep a record of, did you do it; did it happen or is it completely unimportant?  
As soon as you've tried killing out of curiosity, just to see what would happen, just to try it... as soon as you decided you'll purposefully kill an innocent creature, your movements became unhinged, not yours anymore. You weren't you, but a silent observer, not even allowed to scream.  
  
You tried telling yourself it's not real, that you'll go back anyway.

But horrible things are so much more horrible, when you're seeing them from the first person point of view.  
  
And he's figured you out from the start, each time he did. He hasn't just broken through the fourth one, he's broken all of the walls of the house down without mentioning the absurdity of it being so easy to him, having fun while doing it, so that you don't even notice; he's doing it now, too; repeating what you already asked yourself so many times: if a sound can't be heard, did it exist at all?  
  
His smiles always hit a bit too close to home.  
  
You shrug, feeling dirty. Feeling really bad.  
"Still bad.", you manage.  
  
"..yeah, i guess so. hey, why was the skeleton a bad kid?"  
"he couldn't stop _shin_ ning"  
  
You giggle, then again fall into silence.  
  
"so.. what now, buddy? ...what're you gonna do next?"  
  
He holds that thought and turns to look at you. He's smiling as he always is, but you can see that a part of him looks desperate. Scared.  
  
Is he scared of what will come next?  
Of the fact that, maybe, it won't.  
  
Is he scared of you?  
  
"i mean.. what now? we've gotten to the surface and all, tis been a while too, but... know what, to be honest, i don't feel safe one bit."  
  
"Won't do it again. Promised."  
  
You can't bring yourself to say RESET, but he knows what you mean.  
  
"really? that's really neat, kiddo."  
  
It's obvious. You know he must think of all the possibilities of this same conversation taking place. He's aware of a lot of things, but not everything, at all. And for someone like this, for both of you. not knowing what comes next is pretty damn scary.  
  
He must think you are just playing with him, saying things like these all over the realities, making promises, then hitting RESET again and again like it's nothing.  
  
"but, y'know... it's been real fun, sitting here with you. even if it first started as a way to make you happy, not ending the timeline. kinda wanna..."  
he stops.

 _I want to make you happy for real_  
  
But he doesn't say it. Doesn't have to.  
You two have a way of communicating through silence.  
  
He looks uneasy, staring at the stars in the distance. You realize how much they must fascinate him, as well as all the other monsters, too. But now, he's just looking straight through them.  
  
"I'm sorry.", you say. He doesn't say anything, just looks at you, smiling as he always does.  
  
"I.."  
  
You stop. The words have tangled again in your throat, stopped themselves on the way out. You try to say something, but silence is the only thing that you manage to choke out.

You try again.  
  
"I couldn't..do anything. Just watch. While my..body moved,"  
You stop to breathe in shakily but continue.  
  
"I was curious. But then right after..exiting the ruins, I..They..I just watched while i killed. While they killed me, over and"  
  
You stop.  
_While you killed me_ sounds so much more horrible than you'd want it to. So you don't say it, and he knows, he knows about both of you killing each other so many times. You can't blame anyone, but you still don't want to try saying it out loud.  
  
"hey. i know that it wasn't you"  
  
You look at him, surprised.  
  
"i.. fought that thing. back in the hall, down there in the underground. i fought it quite a lot, so. believe me when i tell you, there's no way that thing could've been you."  
  
You hiccup and bury your face somewhere underneath his collar bones.

His jacket muffles your sobs. You can feel his ribs between your arms, while you're shaking, gripping his body with all your might, like an anchor, as if you might get caught by the cold air around you and fly away towards the stars if you don't.  
  
"I'm so sorry", you manage out with tears and snot. The chilly wind stings the places on your cheeks where your tears had been.  
  
You two stay like this, not speaking, for a while.  
  
  
  
"you okay there, kiddo?", he speaks after some time of holding you in his arms. He tries looking at you under your fringe, poking you between the ribs. You yelp.  
  
He looks surprised. Then, as if he's figured it out.  
"oh. welp. you're ticklish, aren't you?"  
  
You try frowning, but your face doesn't seem to listen to you. You just shut your eyes tighter and shake your head frantically, then make another tiny yelp when he tries tickling you again.  
  
"heh heh. knew it."  
  
"Not funny", you try telling him, but are stopped by his bony fingers that throw you into another fit of giggles. "Use MERCY"  
He laughs at this comment.  
  
You struggle a bit more, in one moment reverting to a tactic you used a lot as a kid when someone was stradling you: bite the person.  
You feel hard bone between your teeth, then spit it out, taken aback.  
  
There's a moment where you two just stand there, looking at each other, then simultaneously burst out laughing.  
  
He finally lets you go of you, hand on where his stomach would be. "you're killing me, kid."

You pull him into another hug, not wanting to let go.  
  
You love him.  
You love everyone, though.  
  
But with him, it's a little different, you think. Your walls seem so silly when you're with someone that walks right through them, that sometimes you forget you even have them. But with him, sometimes, you're not sure if you'll ever stop being so unbelievably afraid, the same as he must be scared of you just as much.

But with him, everything's out in the open, but it's not.

You can feel your soul shaking when he looks at you, and you give your all not to flinch. It's so often that you feel helpless in a way, same as you were back then; at times, you half expect to see bones and cuts on your limbs basking in light when you open your eyes again, surrounded by blue.  
  
But you do.

  
"I love you", you tell him, your voice muffled by the hug.  
  
"that's... buddy, listen," He seems unable to react.  
  
You shake your head but weaken your grip.  
  
He doesn't pull away, but rather just leans on you, lightly bumping his head on yours once. You lower yours, getting closer, letting it fall on his shoulder. You can't quite tell which one of you is shaking; maybe you both are.  
  
"this is so messed up.", he laughs.  
You nod.  
  
"Still do."  
  
"heh."  
  
"I'm not...leaving here, you know. Not gonna leave you"  
  
He's more taken aback by this than you'd think. By you staying, despite any truth. It's genuine, he can tell. It's weird.  
  
You wonder how kissing him would feel like.  
  
"you're one strange kid, lemme tell you that." His voice is shaking and you want more; you want to get closer to him, closer than bone and skin and air and atoms.  
  
You never did like to wonder about things for too long; never the one for much pondering, you just move in ways that seem like a good idea at that moment. So you lean in and place your lips on where his would be.  
  
"...not sure i was expecting this", he says as a response to your dissatisfied expression as a reaction after kissing his teeth. It's hard and as unpleasant as pressing your lips on someone's teeth could be, but you don't care.

"but buddy, you know i can't kiss-"  
  
You shake your head, kiss his cheek, kiss his shoulder, kiss his forehead and the place between his eye sockets and cup his cheekbone in your small hand.  
  
"Don't care."  
  
He doesn't push you away, just closes his eyes and leans into the touch. No matter how afraid he might be, he's still holding you gently, like you're something precious that might break any second, if he's not careful.  
  
"humans have weird lips.", he says, seeming unfazed as if you don't know better; looking everywhere but your face.  
You like this feeling a lot, you want to see him get flustered more.  
  
The cocoa's gotten cold by now, forgotten on one of the roof tiles.  
  
He bumps his forehead against your own, his arms still wrapped around you.

You wonder if this counts as a kiss.


	2. sans

On some days, it's enough for you to simply tug on his sleeve and point upwards; the others, you don't even have to ask. These days you just find him there, spreading several hot blankets over the roof tiles, despite you seeing him in the kitchen or messing around with Papyrus just moments before.  
  
"heya. didn't see you there."  
  
You stick your tongue out as a response. Yeah, right.

It's become kind of a ritual for the two of you, especially since that night. You come here to sit, listening to him tell you stories and jokes. At times, he forgets himself and starts telling you about all the different constellations, distant galaxies and the ways the night sky shifts when you look at it at different times of the year. But, every time, he stops.  
  
"...how do i know it? isn't that common knowledge? pap knows 'bout that stuff too, calls it science fiction."  
  
And he won't tell you anything more about it for a while, no matter the amount of thumb-upping and finger pistoling. "so, uh, anyway. think i didn't tell you about this one. so one day i'm going into grillby's, y'know? and the guys, they tell me-"  
  
It's the middle of summer, but the roof still has snow on it as usual. Toriel is used to you digging up your warmest sweaters from the drawer and stacking them on your head to carry to the roof, no matter the time of year. She never asks where you're going, but despite it always reminds you to be careful not to fall and hurt yourself.  
  
Tonight you feel pretty chilly, despite wearing three sweaters of different print and knee socks over cycling tights. You're sitting there and picking at gummy worms you two used earlier to freak out people, putting a few in his eye sockets. You never heard Undyne make a higher pitched scream.  
  
You stop slightly trembling when you bundle up in blankets, then smile mischievously and stick your head under his blue jacket. You hear the noise he makes as you bury your nose deeper in fur, breathing in the smell of tomatoes and metal and Sans. It's warm, you always notice after a while, even though it really shouldn't be.  
  
Maybe some of the phantom cold that was stuck to its chest dissipated through to your fingers, or maybe you just like to imagine that he's warm inside, almost human;  
You flinch for a moment, not liking that you used the word. You despised it so much, for doing as much as taking part, before it became your nickname down there and among your new family. So, you don't think anything of it now. You guess you are, and that isn't exactly bad.  
  
You take another gummy worm from the rainbow-colored, plastic bag. Through the transparent bits that look like they're windows, you see that the first part of the one you picked this time is colored blue, with the other side red and yellow. You mess with it for a bit, rolling it around between palms of your hands. Then bite its head off and smile.  
  
Sans looks at you uneasily.  
  
"..you sure like playing with those, huh?"  
  
You nod and take another bite. The texture is weird and jelly between your back teeth. Now the only thing that's left in your hands is the red one, looking slightly more shiny than the rest. He keeps staring.  
  
"welp. nice to know"  
  
You turn to look at the worm's red tail and squish the candy a bit between your fingers. They're sticky now; you can't see its face. You almost feel sorry that you bit its head of.  
It isn't alive, though. Is he guilt-tripping you for gummy worms?  
  
"Making me feel sorry?", you turn around to stare at him in return.  
  
"nah, you _maggot_ to be mistaken."  
  
He keeps narrowing his eye sockets- smiling, of course, but the smile seems frozen. You understand him now, but you also understand one other thing. This happened before, too, so you know what you've gotten yourself into. The battle is on.

You stare back at him, keeping your eyes barely opened.  
  
To be truthful, staring contests were never your forte; you only have the patience to look at something, not moving, for a long while, if you see the point in doing it. Otherwise you just get bored, wanting to see more of something else. You either have to move or act in any way, or at least direct your gaze at something else at one point. With sans, though, you just start giggling for some reason.  
  
"Lost."  
  
"c'mon kid, that didn't even last ten minutes.", he teases.  
  
"Not a kid.", you reply shortly, trying to stop your giggling and look _serious_. It almost works, until he chuckles too.

You bump your shoulder against his, still slightly larger one, managing not to poke into a bone. He feels really soft rather than sharp. This always feels nice to you. Loving to use your senses, physical contact was always a good thing; especially if it's him. Though mostly, especially if you're in the outside world, closest to a hug that he gets is collide with you on purpose while walking, or just fling his arm around your shoulder.  
  
"..true." he turns his gaze away and relaxes.  
  
You lean in and kiss his cheek, purposefully making a lot of noise in the process. He almost rolls the eyes he hasn't got,

"don't get sappy on me, buddy, you know this doesn't do anything to make me care."

"Don't care?", you repeat.  
  
He stops, startled.

"..nah, 's nothing."

You look at him and keep looking until he notices you're asking _why_.  
  
He shrugs, trying to play it off as just a something in passing, not an important thing at all. "hey, doesn't matter, it was a joke. hey, did you hear this one? what did the skeleton say-"

"No."

"c'mon, just-"

"No."  
  
It doesn't even take a moment for him to recognize your silence as something other than a comfortable one. You see that he didn't mean to say it, but you don't want him to avoid you any more. This is you saying, _It's your turn to talk._  
  
He doesn't like it one bit.  
  
"aw don't look at me like that, there's nothing to say."  
  
The red piece of gummy candy is sticky between your fingers when you squeeze it in your palm. You play with it, mostly out of nervousness, because you know you won't eat it, but you don't lower your gaze from his face.  
  
"just stop this, okay?"  
  
You don't; you won't let him slip away from you this time, you've decided. You grip his hand in yours, as if holding him captive. You won't let go.  
A while of more silence, then he speaks again.  
  
"..you're really determined, aren't ya?"  
  
"..."

"buddy, look. there's nothing wrong, so."

"..."

You refuse to let go of him.  
  
"..okay, you won. but there's, uh. nothing more to it than what you already know. guess i'm just still too lazy to care."

The look you give him is enough for both of you to be perfectly aware of how stupid this sounds. He sighs, his rib cage raising and falling slowly.  
  
"..no, that's not right. you're correct. i can't care. guess i can't allow myself to. down there, i had an excuse. to just say it doesn't matter anyway, 'cause everything will just go back to how it was. but that's not the case anymore, and i still keep thinking like before.. that one day, it'll all end. and all this? doesn't feel real. and it doesn't mean a thing, if it's all ending anyway. it's just a stupid hunch, but if i'm right.. if something bad's really about to happen, what difference does it make if we're up here on the surface or not?"  
  
"an' besides, before, it wasn't you alone that did it. there was..something else there. so what if that something shows up and yanks us back there just when we've forgotten all about it. what if it already did, but we forgot? we wouldn't be able to find out anything about it, except piece things together by accident. just like when he.. welp. so, uh, yeah. not caring? 's easier, i guess."

"..."  
  
"..don't think hugs are gonna fix this one, pal.", he tells you as you give him one.  
  
"Are nice anyway.", you say back to him with a lump in your throat, still a bit sore from not using it. You're holding him tight and won't pull away, your cheek pressing against his collar bone. You feel like you cried a little but at the same time didn't, your eyes are dry but something is itching behind your nose, coloring it pink.  
  
You feel like you're stopping yourself from it; you're strong and not a child anymore. You told yourself you wouldn't. But you'd like to cry for him. It would be easier if someone did, since he won't ever cry.  
  
"Not knowing... is scary.", you say.  
  
"sure is, kid." His hands find his way to your shoulders and back, and you feel a bit more safe.  
  
"Not a kid. It's scary..but exciting too. Getting to know. Anything can happen."  
  
"except if it doesn't.", he mumbles, but you hear him.  
  
"It will. The... RESETS... won't happen again."  
  
The beating of your heart pumping blood is so loud, that you almost can't hear your words over it. Saying it openly, using its name for the first time is so scary, but gives you a strange kind of strength and energy that lifts your gaze and makes you look at him straight in the eyes when you tell him this,  
  
"They won't. I won't let them, and I'm here."  
  
_I promise_ hangs around you in the air like an unspoken charm.  
  
"You said I'm determined."  
  
At that point, he looks as if something in him broke; quietly, almost unnoticeable, but you know it's there. He doesn't cry, but he looks at you with an expression you've never seen him make before. It looks desperate, and hopeful, strong and so weak at the same time. It makes you feel like things will get better, if only slightly.  
  
After you part a few inches, he now turns to look at the ground below you, letting you hold him for some time; it feels like he's afraid of making a sound.  
  
"i..uh. thanks, i."

He looks lost. You think you probably shouldn't consider it endearing, but can't help yourself. You love any instance in which he loses control. He tells you your weird creature lips are soft and strange whenever you shower him with pecks, but never tells you to stop.  
  
"Better?"  
  
"a bit. heh"

Your hands are still sticky when you reach over to grab his head by the cheekbones and bring it an inch closer to your own.

"what's with you all of a sudden?"  
  
You point at your face. "kiss."  
  
"..you're a real workout, ya know that?"  
  
But you see he's smiling; smiling for real.  
  
He leans even closer and bumps his forehead on yours; the way his cold, bony fingers touch your neck by the nape and lightly press your back with his other hand makes something funny go about in your stomach; not sure if it's the candy or some other kind of invisible insects, fluttering about, or a thousand crystal stars in the world he came from, that almost look alive.  
  
"Butterflies.", you mutter when you part.  
  
"what?"  
  
"..."  
  
"can't see 'em, bud." He always hears you.  
  
"Kissing's nice."

"mm"

"Like it?" You wiggle your eyebrows.  
  
"nah, 's pretty whatever."  
  
He laughs when his comment makes you punch him lightly on the side, then in turn quickly shifts closer once more, dips your back slightly and presses his teeth close to your lips.

It's only for a moment, a flash and it's gone, but still makes you feel dizzy, to a point you're almost sure you're radiating heat in the dark of the night sky. It's the first time that he's ever kissed you on his own. You think about his voice and the melted snow under your fingers, and the silly fake kiss being more real than almost anything you've stumbled upon in all your lives.  
  
"what?"  
  
_Nothing_ , you shrug, lean on him again and close your eyes.  
  
For the most part of the rest of the night, you just sit there together, cuddling. Your breathing becomes slower, as you start falling asleep every time he wraps you up in his jacket, no matter how much you try to stay awake. Maybe it's magic.  
  
You like to think that there's something warm burning in his core, something you can't be see or touch, but still know is there. You like to think of that instead of the alternative, every time you remember blue flickering and the light surrounding your body, (*You're blue now.)  
  
You think of all the ways in which your heart is colored blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every other bad feeling aside, I noticed this with a lot of depressed people - thinking something along the lines of "I don't know how or why, but I feel like everything's gonna end soon" at least once, myself included; without a real explanation why. And Sans has even more reason to feel that way: he can actually rationalize these feelings. After all, everything ending without a warning has been a real possibility for a good part of his life before this.
> 
> So, I think that he'd still feel something like this, even after going to the surface; being depressed doesn't magically disappear just because something good happens, even if that something is amazingly huge. And especially when there's also a real chance that he might be right...
> 
>  
> 
> Edit: Look at this beautiful fanart that Luniria made! (Thank you so much, you're the best)  
> <http://luniria.deviantart.com/art/you-re-blue-now-677174299>  
> 


End file.
